Together
by m9ower
Summary: Natasha and Clint must face an unexpected tragedy that neither of them are prepared for. Clintasha Oneshot. Clint's POV. Kind of depressing.


**Helloo everyone,**

**This is my first oneshot, so I am excited to finally get it up! It's actually pretty depressing and may have a few triggers for some, so read with caution (but it isn't too bad). I hope you enjoy.**

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"Clint. Wake up. _Clint_."

"…mmm, what?"

"Something's wrong."

I peer through bleary eyes at the clock on my bedside table. 4:06.

"Tasha, it's 4 in the morning—"

"—something is really wrong," she cuts me off, her voice quivering.

I immediately roll over to face her, knowing she has taken gunshots without anything more than a grimace. She is sitting up, back against the headboard and knees against her chest. A thin sheen of sweat covers her forehead, and even in the dim light I can see how unnaturally pale she is.

Waking up more now, I move to sit cross-legged next to her. I take both of her clammy hands in mine and rub them gently to warm them up.

"Do you feel sick? We can get Jarvis to run diagnostics on your vitals to see what's going on…"

"No, it's just pain, on and off, in my stomach. But now there's blood—"

This time she cuts herself off. With a low moan, she crumples over into my lap, whimpering and clutching her stomach. I smooth her hair away from her now flushed face and gently massage her back.

The practiced way in which she patterned her breathing tells me she's been through this several times already. As for the blood, I don't need to turn on the bedside lamp to make out the alarmingly large crimson streaks on her legs and the nearby sheets. Damn, this is worse than I thought.

After another minute or so, she begins to relax.

"You're gonna be just fine, Tasha," I whisper into her ear. Giving her a soft kiss in the temple, I scoop her up in my arms.

I talk quietly as we move out of our room and down the hall, holding her closely against my chest to avoid excess movement on her part.

"Jarvis, wake up Bruce. Tell him to meet us at the labs."

"Of course, sir," the AI responds in an equally serious tone.

I direct my attention back to Tasha. Another wave of pain must hit because she cries out, clinging to me even tighter and moaning with every step. In all our time as partners, I've never seen her like this.

"Shh, Tasha, shh… everything is going to be okay, you'll be just fine babe…" I ramble, saying anything that may help to calm her down, and becoming more concerned when she doesn't snap at me for calling her 'babe'. God, I'm getting worried.

We finally reach the labs. Moments later, so does Bruce.

"That was fast, thanks," I remark as we pass by the different tables of Tony's mechanical junk.

"I'm used to being the only on-call doctor for 10 miles, this is really no big deal," he explains. "Jarvis briefed me on what we know so far. Lay her down here, it'll do for now." He gestures to what appears to be a low tech, metal hospital bed.

As the pain loosens its hold again, Nat it able to recline with her legs out, only to reveal even more blood smears all across her legs.

"When did the pain begin?" Bruce asks as he pulls up a seat from a nearby table. It only takes an instant for him to turn from our friend to Dr. Banner, the physician.

"Late yesterday afternoon," Tasha replies hoarsely. "It wasn't nearly this bad until the last few hours, and the blood only started a few minutes ago."

"And do you have any idea where the source is?" he questions, gently probing across her abdomen to feel for any irregularities.

"From… lower regions. But it was definitely not expected."

He nods in understanding, but before the conversation can continue any further, she gives a muffled cry of pain as another wave of agony overtakes her.

Bruce continues to observe as I grab both of her hands. After a slow moment of deliberation, a look of realization and dread flickers across his face.

"It's too soon for me to know for sure," he says in a low voice, so Tasha doesn't completely hear. "But I may know what's wrong. If I'm correct, and the bleeding has slowed like it has appeared to be, it should be over soon. Give me a minute to make sure."

He gets up and walks to the other side of the still dark room, quietly ordering Jarvis to perform different tests the entire way. The results then begin to appear on the monitor in front of him, and he furrows his brows as he begins to study the data.

I don't want to watch anymore. Whatever is happening is nothing we've had to go through before, and the uncertainty kills me. I return my focus to Tasha, who is slowly beginning to relax again.

"It's almost over, babe," I say, kissing her hands. "He just has to run a few more tests to be sure, but he said the pain is just about over."

She nods and slowly rests her head back against the cold metal table.

We wait in dead silence for a few minutes, barely moving as Bruce continues to tap at the screens.

After squirming around a few times in mild discomfort, she makes eye contact with me again. "It's definitely stopped," she says, sounding slightly relieved but predominantly worried.

Then, in what seems like slow motion, Bruce finally walks over to us. The look in his eyes is horrible.

My heart skips a beat as I finally put the pieces together.

"I really hate to be the one telling you this, but all of the information received seems to point to a miscarriage. The only detail that doesn't add up was the pain and heavy bleeding you experienced for it being so early on, but that can most likely be attributed to your altered physical makeup." He stops, trying to find a way to continue. Emotions aren't his strong suit. "I'm so sorry."

No one speaks. Bruce nods slowly, stands, and leaves the room.

I can't believe it. Tasha and I had never even thought about children, much less talked about having them. Our line of work doesn't exactly lend itself well to parenting, but I guess some part of me had always wanted to raise a family and have some chance at a normal life. It just seems so strange… we've lost something we never knew we had—never knew we wanted.

I look at Tasha. She is sitting up now, eyes glassy, expression cold. Did she even want a baby? Does she even care?

She notices my staring and turns to look at me, taking in my expression. "I'd better get cleaned up then," she whispers, letting her legs slip off the bed and getting shakily to her feet.

It's then when I really see her. Ashen skin, sunken, confused expression, arms crossed over her chest with blood smears everywhere. Lip bitten in defiance of the tears beginning to pour from her frightened eyes. She looks so tiny.

"Clint, I'm so sor—"

"NO!" I jump up and yell, a single unexpected tear trailing down my face as my outburst echoes around the dark room. "Don't even for a second believe that you caused this, because there was nothing you could have done to stop it!"

I want to say more, to say something to make it all better, but my voice fails me. Instead, I throw my arms around her, cradling her close to my chest and letting her tears soak the shoulder of my shirt as we rock back and forth in the darkness.

We stay like this for awhile, trying desperately to hold each other in the face of unexpected grief.

"I didn't even know. We we're gonna have a baby, and I didn't even know until…" she mumbles, every word a dagger in my chest.

Squeezing her even tighter, I sit down on the cold stone floor, pulling her with me.

We lean against the stone wall as the tears begin to slow, allowing us to finally catch our breath. "It's all going to be okay," I say.

She rests her head on my shoulder. "I hope so."

We fall asleep with our arms wrapped absentmindedly around her stomach as the first rays of sunlight begin to peak through the wide glass windows. We will get through this as we get through everything. Together.

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**I was thinking of posting a follow up chapter of the same events in Nat's POV, but only if anyone would be interested in reading it. Review and let me know what you think.**


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